Seoul in mid-may is at its most beautiful. It’s late afternoon. A warm breeze sweeps through the city, twirling the pastel skirts that dot the streets and lifting the spirits of the casual pedestrian. May flowers shed their petals onto the bright sidewalks in a storm of festive confetti, a fitting finale to a dreary winter.

That said, business commuters have it the worst. It’s rush hour when Kyungsoo makes it out of the office. The setting summer sun’s colorful rays bid him farewell as he ducks into the dark metro station. Sandwiched in a throng of other commuters, Kyungsoo feels perspiration forming at the base of his hairline. He finds himself wishing for the cold of January as he sways to the starts and stops of the subway, short arms grasping desperately at the metal ring above.

It wasn’t such a bad day, he thinks to himself matter-of-factly as he settles in for his long ride. Sehun had, thankfully, been sent along on an afternoon-long errand. Kris had left him well-enough alone, and he had even managed to proof all the financial reports. And really, the day just gets better—someone had just exited, leaving Kyungsoo his seat. Tiredly, he plops himself onto the dirty subway bench and breathes an exhausted sigh of relief.

It was really just Kim Jongin, Kyungsoo thinks as he stares blankly into the air. Kim Jongin with his polished suit and his soft brown hair and his chiseled face and his toned body. Kim Jongin, who had aged into an assertive, poised, well-spoken man, who looked like he could bear responsibility, who looked like he could do a good job sorting through Wu Di Group’s endless files and forms and reports. 

And Lu Han too, of course. Lu Han who still smiled at him in that disconcerting way. As if they were long-time friends meeting serendipitously years later. Well, he fell for that smile once, but never again. 

Always Kim Jongin and Lu han, disturbing his day. Ten years of peace, of re-learning self-respect. But here they are again, phantoms of his past intruding on his present. 

As the rumble of the subway roared in his ears, Kyungsoo felt himself drifting off. 

In his dreams, he was 17 again. He was chubbier back then, stomach bulge not so well concealed, and double chin not concealed at all. His mushroom cut topped his head fittingly, if not attractively. 

It was the middle of the day. He had slipped out between fourth and fifth period and was making his way along a small, hidden path at the back of the schoolyard. He wondered if anyone would notice him ditching. Probably not. It's not like he had any friends. But perhaps teachers would comment, in his midterm report or something. It was, after all, out of character for someone like Kyungsoo, who religiously attended all his classes and who, although not the smartest, always worked the hardest. 

But then again, who would care to read his midterm report now that his mother was gone? It had only been two months since the fatal car accident, two months where Kyungsoo's life had turned upside down. No more homecooked food, or fresh cut fruit, or a calm and loving smile when he worried over his homework. No. There was just him, feeling small among the empty takeout boxes in a dank and dreary apartment, wondering if his wreck of a father might be sober enough to make some food or at least sober enough to refrain from bashing all the furniture. 

School, with its brightly lit classrooms and its nervous but chirpy students, seemed a pointless torture.

At the end of the path was a tear in the mesh school fence. Kyungsoo had found it a couple weeks ago, when he had wandered over to cry where no one could see him. Now he used it regularly to escape.

But his escape route wasn't empty today. By the tree near the hole in the fence, there stood Jongin and Lu Han, each dangling a cigarette from their lips, wisps of smoke rising in the frigid wintry air. They had been leaner back then, but no less beautiful. An air of elegant nonchalance shrouded them as they broke the rules without a care. Kyungsoo paused in his tracks.

Lu Han broke the silence. He smiled his angelic smile and ambled over to Kyungsoo. He was a few inches taller, but his easy, self-assured nature somehow elongated his figure. He felt like a giant to Kyungsoo, who was even shorter then than he was today. 

"You won't tell, will you?" he had asked.

Kyungsoo stared up at him with his characteristically round eyes before quickly shaking his head no. 

"Thanks!" Lu Han beamed. "I don' think we've met. I'm Lu Han. It's a strange name, right? I'm Chinese, that's why. And over there's Kim Jongin." Jongin was leaning quietly against the tree, watching through half-lidded eyes. "What's your name?"

Kyungsoo shifted his eyes from the beautiful smiling Lu Han to the somber looking Jongin and back again. He felt his cheeks grow hot. He wanted to leave. Or maybe he wanted to stay. He wasn't sure. "D-do Kyungsoo. I...We're in the same class. I s-sit in the back." And there it was, that nervous stutter that made its appearance when he got nervous. Lu Han had looked at him with some measure of puzzlement. "Oh. Sorry about that, I remember now. You sit in the front row. Jongin and I usually sit in the back, that must be why." Another endearing smile. Kyungsoo decides he needs to leave.

With a hurried, stuttered goodbye, he gets on his hands and knees and crawls through the hole in the fence, keenly aware of the two pairs of eyes that follow him. If anything, his cheeks burn hotter, only this time from shame. He scurries away before he could look back, before he could see Lu Han stroll to Jongin, before he could hear what they whispered between themselves as they played rock paper scissors to decide who might play with Kyungsoo. 

He should have looked back.

He woke up. 

The subway was making a brief stop. As his heavy eyes fluttered open, Kyungsoo realized with a start that he was leaning against something, or someone, rather. 

"I'm so sorry," he said as he quickly sat upright. 

"Haha, it's alright." Another familiar voice. With some surprise, Kyungsoo looks up and finds himself staring into a toothy white smile. "Chanyeol!"

The other man chuckled. "Hey there. Saw you almost toppling over in your sleep--good thing I showed up, huh?"

Good thing you have me around, huh? Why do people keep saying that? Was he really so hopeless on his own?

"Kyungsoo?"

"Oh, sorry, spaced out for a sec. Are you headed home?"

"Yep."

"You're early. I thought you had a photoshoot and that your manager was driving you back?"

"We ended early and hyung had something to do. Told him I'd take the subway. I'm not all that famous yet. And now I get to spend extra time with you!"

***

Kyungsoo met Park Chanyeol in a college accounting class, though why Chanyeol had chosen accounting was forever a mystery to Kyungsoo. By mere coincidence, they sat next to each other that first day when the professor assigned a seating chart, and that cinched their fate. 

By college, Kyungsoo was still short, but he had slimmed down and lost his mushroom cut. Girls occasionally glanced his way and gushed to their friends about how cute he was, but nothing ever came of it, probably because Kyungsoo always wore a cold, distant expression when he wasn't staring at you in shock. It had never been easy to break through his shell, and it was harder than ever after what went down with Jongin.

But Chanyeol was different. On the outside, he was like a large overgrown puppy, slightly narcissistic, always happy. He had friends in all walks of life. But the outer puppy masked the inner man, the man who approached his goals methodically, who worked hard and patiently to get what he wanted.

Maybe that's why Kyungsoo was surprised by the seriousness behind Chanyeol's expression when the latter carefully followed the professor's charts. And maybe that's why Kyungsoo found himself willing to answer Chanyeol's questions after class, which soon turned into study meetings at the coffee shop, which soon turned into rooming together in an apartment.

Five years had passed in the blink of an eye. Though somewhat older than the other boys, Chanyeol had become a burgeoning model by day, an undergound rock star by night. And Kyungsoo, to no one's surprise, had found himself a stable job as an accountant in a multinational pharmaceutical company. Yet somehow, despite making their ways through life on completely divergent paths, they continued living together.

***

"Chanyeol, come here and try this curry. Is it too bland?"

Kyungsoo was cooking dinner as Chanyeol fiddled with his guitar in the living room. The taller man hopped over to the kitchen in a few short steps--their apartment was small--and hovered behind Kyungsoo with a large smile. 

"I'm sure it tastes great, but I guess I can give it a try."

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. "Ok well, here--" he attempted to the ladle into Chanyeol's hand, but the latter merely shook his head petulantly. Chanyeol circled his arms around Kyungsoo's waist from behind and laid his head on the shorter man's shoulder. "Ahh--" he said, mouth open. 

Kyungsoo frowned and elbowed Chanyeol hard in the stomach. "Eat it yourself, you lazy ."

Chanyeol scrunched his eyes together in pain and sighed before letting go. "O-kay." A slurp. "Yeah, it tastes fine dude. Let's eat, I'm starving."

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes again, but secretly, he was felt just a bit happier.

Even if everything else came crashing down, at least there was still Chanyeol in all his exaggerated normalcy.